Never
by Gratia Astra
Summary: A smile can hide the worst pain, and Jack smiles more than anyone else. Very dark, angsty one-shot.


**"The people who smile and laugh the most are the ones who are suffering the most." - Anonymous**

_Happy thoughts, now Jack. Think happy thoughts._ I remind myself.

My name is Jack Frost. I know that because the Moon told me. That's all he ever told me. I have special abilities. Not powers, abilities. "Powers" implies a great physical strength, the possession of great influence or authority. Me? Uh, no. I can convince the wind to blow in certain directions, I can bring about snow with a mere thought, and I can create thin layers of ice in fern-like patterns. Great strength and influence, authority? Not so much. Nah, that's more the area of the Guardians; the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and Sandman, them.

Me... Do I even exist? _Of course, you exist Jack. You iceblock-head. Fall, that old season, he wouldn't be able to beat you up if you didn't exist. And what about the Groundhog? He usually gives you a good round of verbal abuse when he sees you._ Just because no one believes in me, just because no child can see or hear me, doesn't mean I don't exist. I'm here, I'm just invisible. Just because they can't hear doesn't mean I'm not still screaming and shouting. I'm here, it seems I've always been here, and I'm stuck here. Why I'm here, I can't figure out and no one will tell me.

_Don't give in. Happy thoughts..._

I think of sunlight on my face. I think of laughter and seeing others smile. I think of daytime, when the light is bright and the shadows stay in the corners. I think of playing there, and being happy for a while. I am strong. I am kind. I think of the boys and girls that play together, never suspecting there's actually a lonely child standing right beside them. I think of those playful, happy, wonderful children who make the pain hide under the bed, who make me smile, for now. I think of the other spirits and legends that make me angry, but that's okay because even the anger is bright. I think of dancing and singing because the sky is clear. I can play and relax and laugh and smile.

I try not to think of what it's going to be like when the sun goes away.

I try not to think of the times that I've fled to the south pole, where I can be sure that I won't accidentally hurt someone. I try not to think of the times I hide in the dark of the night, crying and screaming and knowing that no one can see or hear me. I try not to think of those places where even the stars can't shine behind the clouds and the shadows swallow me whole. I visit those places often. I try not to think of the way I have curled into a ball of agony, and no one is there to criticize me. I try not to think of all those times when I hate myself and the world and every being in in it. I am weak. I am cruel. No one wants me or needs me. I am not important, I serve no purpose, I am easily forgotten. I try not to think violent thoughts. I try not to curse the monsters and the light they hide in. I try not to think about when the people have all gone and the pain is unbearable. The frustration I feel is so dark I feel like I'm drowning. The uncertainty of tomorrow and what it brings makes me so afraid I don't have the strength to stand. It doesn't matter if the sky is cloudy because the world is so dark the Moon doesn't make a difference anyway. I try not to think of the times I tear at my own body because at least it's something I can feel, something that makes sense. I try not to bitterly hate myself and everyone else.

_Do you know what it's like? To know what I know, to feel what I feel?_

I am Jack Frost. I am trapped in a vicious cycle of pretend and make-believe. In the daytime, I surround myself with children. I make them laugh and smile. I pretend that I am happy by laughing and smiling too. Because if I can pretend hard enough, then maybe I can convince myself long enough to make it real. But then the day fades and I am left alone in the dark once again. Then I have pretend that it doesn't hurt, that I'm not broken. Because if I stop believing that, if I let myself feel that pain, I know I'll never be able to stop. I can't let myself acknowledge the deep wounds in my heart. I have to ignore them, I have to pretend they don't exist. If I don't, I know I will surely break, and I won't be able to mend myself. I am broken, but if I let the pieces fall, I won't be able to put them back together again. I hold myself with a fierce and hateful desperation because no one else will catch these pieces of my heart and help me repair this fractured soul.

_Damn it Jack, HAPPY THOUGHTS! _

Pretend that I am happy in the daylight, that's what I do. Pretend that I am alright, long enough for the daylight to return, that's what I do. Jack Frost, the invisible, untouchable, mischievous spirit of winter, that's who I am.

_"Do you know what it's like?" I ask the Moon, I ask the Guardians. They try to answer, but I can hear the truth they don't want to say. _

_They have no idea._


End file.
